Isis: The E6 Breeder (Lycan Breeder Series Book No. 2)

Scene Six

A rough thumb sought the comfort of smooth silk. Not just any sample, but that of a particular gift.

The white handkerchief had wear marks where Alpha Dominic would smooth over it in a repeated pattern. Swipes back and forth, lowering his blood pressure and reminding him of the weight of his responsibilities. The reward for being a steady and powerful leader was a safe pack and environment for his family. Future family, that is.

It was hand made for him eight years ago. His breeder, Sophia, crafted it from his mother's mating ceremony dress shortly after learning that they were destined to have a relationship. Unaware of the origin of the material and too young to understand the parameters of their future relations at the time, she delivered a sentimental piece of art with her favorite color, and soon it became his as well.

Sometimes he takes the yellow and white embroidered keepsake with him, other times he leaves it in its designated box of which it doesn't share with anything else. Today felt like a day to take it with him. It has kept him from doing many foolish things.

The creases had long become permanent from repeatedly folding it in his favorite pattern, like he was doing now. This is the best shape and size to fit in his pocket, hidden and out of view. After the familiar habit of sizing it down and stowing it away, he rose up from behind his desk and walked out of his office.

At the end of the marble tiled hallway, he entered the stairwell and descended two floors. Arriving at the service areas he followed the scent of detergent.

She is on laundry duty today, recovered from not feeling well last week. The doctor said it was probably stress from what seems to be an early onset wolf. This development might advance their planned timetable. She will be vulnerable as a betrothed breeder to a powerful alpha, developed but not protected.

The rumble of machines tumbling echoed down the hall and mixed with some lighthearted banter. He pounded down a practical tile hallway and turned in through a doorway.

Three of the four staff members froze. Clothing was suspended mid-fold, draped across an ironing board, and halfway out of a dryer. The trio of heads dropped in respect.

An obligatory glance covers all of them, but he rests on the one he had been searching for. The fourth one noticed the interruption and turned to find the source. A sweaty face with whisps of hair clinging to her cheeks and neck found him.

She looked healthy, recovered from her episode last week. He needed to see her strength with his own eyes.

Emerald eyes dropped down and knuckles holding the basket to her hip turned white. Her thick blonde braid fell over her shoulder and caused her to jump.

How is he supposed to assign her as his breeder if she is still this nervous around him?

He might have to claim her well before the demands of their arrangement are acted upon.

Grunting an acknowledgement, he moved his legs and passed through the door on the far side of the room. He has no damn reason to go down into the storage areas, but he'll leave out another exit so he doesn't draw any suspicions from the group he just encountered.

With the door clicked closed behind him, he leans back and listens to them resume their work. He picked up on her unique scent again. Her lotion, her shampoo, her skin. But as with every time he was near her, he confirmed the discovery he made in the early hours of his eighteenth birthday.

She is not his mate.